


The Mice at Play- Saturday

by oper_1895



Series: Sex is just a word (Asexual!Neal) [16]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Asexual Character, Bondage, D/s, F/M, Human Furniture, Other, Subspace, Tickling, predicaments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-01
Updated: 2011-12-01
Packaged: 2017-10-26 18:50:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/286704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oper_1895/pseuds/oper_1895
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Even if he only ever admitted it to himself, Neal never really believed he could lose. He was also willing to admit that this was something that occasionally got him into trouble.</em></p><p><em>Kind of like today.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Mice at Play- Saturday

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Thanks to [](http://bientot.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**bientot**](http://bientot.dreamwidth.org/) , [](http://jumpuphigh.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**jumpuphigh**](http://jumpuphigh.dreamwidth.org/) and [](http://elrhiarhodan.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**elrhiarhodan**](http://elrhiarhodan.dreamwidth.org/) for your efforts.

  
Neal inhaled carefully, breathing in slow measured breaths. This could work. All he had to do was remain calm and composed. His skin prickled in the cool air. Small bells had been attached to the clamps on his nipples. As long as he didn’t move too sharply, they’d stay silent.

That was important, the silence. Elizabeth had commanded it with a wicked smile and he didn’t dare disappoint her.

He was stretched up tall against the bookshelf in the living room, wrists bound and arms above his head. He hadn’t been anchored to anything; rather the end of his tether was weighted down on the shelf above him. It was enough to support some weight, but he’d come loose with any tugging.

Elizabeth brushed a hand down Neal’s side, tickling gently. Neal tensed under her touch and tried not to squirm.

”Good boy.” Elizabeth whispered.

Neal grinned weakly, watching her fingers with trepidation as she trailed them across his chest, heading towards more dangerous areas. He started breathing heavier as Elizabeth gained intent. Neal was quivering with the need to keep still and she was watching his every reaction intently. Suddenly she dug her fingers in just above his hip and he couldn’t hold back chuff of laughter as he squirmed away, setting off the bells.

Elizabeth tossed her hair out of her face and smiled at him. “I warned you to be quiet.”

Neal felt a small sting of disappointment but it was soon smothered by anticipation. Elizabeth loved games where she could challenge him, and he loved the challenge.

There were no real consequences for failure, but that didn’t stop Neal from trying. Even if he only ever admitted it to himself, Neal never really believed he could lose. He was also willing to admit that this was something that occasionally got him into trouble.

Kind of like today.

“Maybe you just need more encouragement.” Elizabeth brushed her fingers down his side, just to watch him laugh and dance then backed off to her basket of supplies. She pulled out a handful of leather and fastened the gag over the lower half of his face.

“Don’t think I’m making this easier,” she warned as she ran chains between the nipple clamps and the D-ring in the front of the gag. “I like hearing you laugh. This just means I’m going to have to make you laugh louder.”

Elizabeth tightened the chains, tilting Neal’s head down so he couldn’t help but watch her work. “Let’s try this again. If you stay still and quiet for ten seconds, you’ll win.”

Neal looked through his lashes at Elizabeth, eyes wide. Every movement of his head was transmitted through to the clover clamps. Every movement would tighten them further and set the bells chiming. He pulled slightly, just to feel the pain of restraint before settling in determinedly. He was a con man and thief extraordinaire. He could do this.

Elizabeth went straight for his neck with wicked fingers. Neal jerked then groaned, suddenly very aware that he couldn’t actually do this at all.

Elizabeth’s head was bent in concentration. Her hair fell forward over her shoulders, exposing the pale nape of her neck. Neal focused on those soft lines, trying to find a distraction as she played delicately with his belly button. Elizabeth glanced up when he got the chiming of the bells under control. She raised an eyebrow and traced a delicate brush of her hair down the curve of his neck to the tender skin of his underarm. Neal jerked his arms down, pulling just an inch of his tether free before he caught himself and let Elizabeth work.

Elizabeth stepped back for a second to confirm he was still in the game. He was, but she was looking immensely smug.

Neal was doomed.

She had learned his every weak spot, every sensitive area, and she was exploiting them ruthlessly. Neal was left whimpering, helpless laughter smothered behind the gag. Every muscle was tight, an attempt at stillness but he couldn’t hold that for long, he wasn’t that strong. The bells chimed with his shivering, with the rhythm of his breath and each jerk of his head and Elizabeth kept going, giggling along with him.

He could barely breathe, trying to override his body’s instinctive responses of movement and escape; he was exhausted from the constant instinctive tension. Elizabeth was vicious. She dragged sharp nails down his ribs and it was too much. His arms jerked down with too much force this time. They came free from their limited restraint, as he tried, but failed to protect his delicate sides.

“I win,” Elizabeth crowed, triumphant.

Neal panted desperately though his nose, trembling. He couldn’t stop the whimper as she blew across his neck. Every inch of his skin felt over-sensitized, his brain giddy with stimulation and Elizabeth kept poking at him, brushing his skin as she circled him.

“What shall we do next? What will be my prize” Elizabeth mused, drawing away slightly. Neal immediately swayed towards her and Elizabeth nodded like he had just answered her question.

She gently pushed his head down, let him tuck his head into her neck when she removed the nipple clamps. Then, she drew him down to his hands and knees with a gentle pressure on the rope. “Follow me to the kitchen.”

Neal lurched forward, aware of Elizabeth’s gaze on him as he tried to move as smoothly as possible with his hands tied.

He stopped when indicated and waited, kneeling neatly. When Elizabeth emerged with a bundle of rope, Neal felt himself immediately settle. It was Elizabeth’s favourite medium to work with, her way of turning Neal into something pretty just for her. It was Neal’s favourite for how it quietly removed any choice.

Elizabeth gave him a thick cushion for comfort and started to arrange him. She tugged his hands up behind his head so he was leaning forward on elbows. Neal could feel his heartbeat start to slow as Elizabeth leaned into him, embracing him as she wove the ropes around his body. His ankles were bound together then pulled up and secured to his thighs, leaving him balanced on just his elbows and knees and grateful for the cushion.

When she was done, Elizabeth tapped his cheek to get his attention. “Don’t spill my wine.”

Neal nodded, vaguely confused. Then he felt the cool glass of wine stem slipped between his arches, the bowl of the wine glass resting on his upturned feet. Elizabeth brushed a finger across his soles, testing him, he realized. The glass shifted as his feet curled, but it was in no danger.

He heard the scrape of a chair across the floor then Elizabeth’s feet settled between his shoulder blades. He felt her shift, getting comfortable, but with his over-sensitized skin the mere presence of Elizabeth’s hand near her glass had him twitching. Elizabeth’s foot brushed lightly against his side; Neal’s entire body tensed as the ticklish tremor passed through him.

Elizabeth laughed and tugged at his toes. “This little piggy went to market-”

Neal whined a protest. Elizabeth pressed her thumb into the arch of his foot, kneading the muscles until he relaxed again.

“Pretty,” she murmured, sounding pleased. She rubbed her foot firmly against his side, soothing him absently. He heard the flutter of pages as she settled in with a book and Neal let himself be still. He relaxed as much as he could within the cocoon of rope, comforted by the restraint. He couldn’t fall out of position if he tried. He let the calm settle over him, placid, like a still lake. Like Harris’ _Clouds over Lake Superior_. All calm blues and round curves, still water and fluffy clouds. Nothing sharp, or harsh or hard. Just still.

He lost track of time. He just knew that when Elizabeth untied him and guided him gently down to the cushion to relax, he felt a stiffness that told him he’d worked hard. She rubbed his cheek, whispered that she’d be back in just a moment.

Neal rolled over, arching his back slightly, luxuriating in the feel of the flex and by his presence in his body. He looked up as Elizabeth appeared with a tray. He stared at the food for a moment, absently hungry, before Elizabeth assembled a sandwich, loaded up the plate with grapes and cherry tomatoes and told him to eat.

After Neal finished the sandwich, Elizabeth patted her knee, so he shifted to lean against her legs, resting his head in her lap. She fed him the last of the grapes, playing with his hair while he played with the sensations of the grapes in his mouth. They were still slightly chilled, warming on his tongue. All smooth and wet, but with a little pressure they exploded across his tongue.

Elizabeth laughed. At him? he didn’t know but she leaned over to kiss him softly and he didn’t care.

She brushed her hand over his face to close his eyes. He felt her shift and a soft blanket draped over his shoulders. With one hand tangled in his hair, she guided his head down to her thigh. As he settled into her warmth, he heard the flip of pages as she picked up her book again.

  


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End file.
